!"#!"#$$%&'()*%+)%,-*'.%+-%/#0,1*'+-21%32*,'(*4',5%)+'%!"#$%&'"()*$%&+,*-.&/"&0*1*/23&4.-*26% 3+'2%#7,'8+-%(-&%9('2,%3(4',:".(-6%,&8;%<(0*27+',=%>+?-8%@+AB2-8%C-2D,'82*.%!',886%EFGH;% Electronic Literature Scott Rettberg Electronic literature is a generalized term used to describe a wide variety of computational literary practices beneath one broad umbrella, defined by the Electronic Literature Organization as “works with important literary aspects that take advantage of the capabilities and contexts provided by the stand-alone or networked computer.” The term is somewhat fraught, and often challenged as not sufficiently or accurately descriptive to suit the more taxonomically minded of its scholars and practitioners. By way of reduction and assemblage, one might patch together definitions of “electronic” and “literature” in a way that makes some sense: “electronic literature is the result or product of literary activity carried or performed using the computer.” But of course, that would leave us with most literary activity that takes place in the contemporary era. What is really meant by “electronic literature” is that the computer (or the network context) is in some way essential to the performance or carrying-out of the literary activity in question. Prior to the 1990s, the term “electronic literature” was most often used to refer more generally to texts that appeared or were stored in electronic form. This usage is still not uncommon, particularly in scientific fields. Research published in online journals or databases might be referred to as “the electronic literature” of the given field. Jill Walker Rettberg (2012) found evidence that Jay David Bolter was using the term to refer specifically to literary works made for the computer as early as 1985 in an article titled “The Idea of Literature in the Electronic Medium.” In their 1987 Hypertext Conference paper “Hypertext and Creative Writing,” which was the first presentation of the *Storyspace hypertext authoring software, Bolter and Joyce use the term once, writing “All electronic literature takes the form of a game, a contest between author and reader.” Bolter again uses the term in the 1991 edition of Writing Space. By the mid-1990s the term was in wider circulation and referred specifically to born- digital literary artifacts. Walker Rettberg notes that one prominent use of the term was in Robert Kendall’s “Writing for the New Millennium: The Birth of Electronic Literature,” published in Poets & Writers, a popular magazine targeting an audience of American writers. In the mid-1990s “electronic literature” was one of many terms in circulation to refer to digital writing practices and was by no means the most prominent. “Hypertext fiction” or the more generic “hypertext” were terms generally used to describe the works published by Eastgate Systems to refer to node-based literary works connected by links (see HYPERTEXTUALITY). The generic “hypertext” itself was defined by Ted Nelson, first in 1965 as “a body of written or pictorial material interconnected in such a complex way that it could not conveniently be presented or represented on paper” and then in 1970 as “forms of writing which branch or perform on request.” Both of Nelson’s definitions of hypertext are broadly applicable to the majority of types of work that are understood as electronic literature today. Works of e-lit are generally interconnected in ways that are not easily amenable to print publication, and they branch, or importantly perform on request. Yet, as Noah Wardrip-Fruin notes, by the late 1990s “in the literary community, the definition of hypertext shifted so that it applied almost exclusively to chunk-style media.” (127) Owing both to the prominence of Eastgate-published hypertexts such as Michael Joyce’s afternoon, a story and Shelley Jackson’s Patchwork Girl and even more profoundly the brand of hypertext encoded in Hypertext Markup Language (HTML), the late 1990s hypertext was largely understood to be works of the link-and-node variety (see ",**I,'J%E% MARKUP). If one forgot Nelson’s original definitions, hypertext would seem an awkward fit, for instance with an aleatory or generative work that produced a new narrative each time it was run, or with digital poem that moved in the space of the screen yet required little interaction from the reader (see DIGITAL POETRY). While both of these can be understood as hypertexts in Nelson’s sense that they perform on request, neither can be easily parsed into a link-and-node structure. Other terms also presented problems. While one might think, for instance, that the term “*interactive fiction” could be applicable to any work of fiction in which the user’s interaction plays a significant role in determining the structure of outcome of a story (including the order in which nodes are displayed in a hypertext fiction), the term was already colonized by the devotees of the text adventure game-based genre. An active “IF Community” had already by the 1990s developed an elaborate self-sustaining infrastructure for the development and distribution of works in this text parser genre, complete with its own platforms, archives, and competitions. So while hypertext fictions were interactive in the sense that their readers would select links or follow paths, they were distinct from the type of “interactive fiction” that requires its readers to type queries and instructions to participate in the narrative. In the 1990s, there indeed seems to have been a tension between the literary hypertext community and this definition of interactive fiction. Indeed hypertext author John McDaid reports that members of Rob Swigart’s 1988 hypertext fiction workshop felt the phrase “This is not a game” was so important to early hypertext practitioners that they put it on a t-shirt “in real big letters.” (Wardrip-Fruin 2005) In the same article, Stuart Moulthrop reports that in retrospect “our allergy to games looks incredibly foolish, both because Infocom's market experience didn't end all that happily, and more important because there was so much good work coming out of ",**I,'J%K% [the interactive fiction] community, and still is.” There was clearly anxiety among hypertext fiction writers, who considered their work to be part of a literary tradition to see their work classified as “mere game.” “E-Poetry” or “digital poetry” are terms that were also in circulation in the mid-1990s and still used today. The circulation of “e-poetry” is largely due to the success of the Electronic Poetry Center at SUNY Buffalo, spearheaded by poet Loss Glazier and the subsequent launch in 2001 of the E-Poetry Festival. The E-Poetry Festival has seen five further biennial iterations. As in electronic literature, or e-mail, the e- in e-poetry represents electronic, and as such is equally ambiguous. While e-poetry does not have any implicit connotation of link-and-node, it is exclusive in the sense that fiction, documentary works, or drama would generally be considered outside the frame. Some might argue that “digital poetry” or “digital literature” would be better terms. “Digital poetry” of course excludes fiction in the same way as “e-poetry” but “digital literature” has a slightly more denotative frame, in that at least one of the OED definitions of digital (“Of a computer or calculator: that operates on data in digital form; [of a storage medium] that stores digital data”) both specifies computers and sets itself in direct contrast to “analogue.” (see ANALOGUE VS DIGITAL) Yet “digital” is almost as imprecise as “electronic” as a modifier. And while the involvement of the computer is essential to this sort of work, the underlying binary nature of its operations might seem less so. “Cybertext” is a term neologized by Espen Aarseth in the eponymous monograph Cybertext and caught on the 1990s. The cyber prefix was derived from the Greek “kubernan,” a verb meaning to steer or guide, and Aarseth term directs attention to the configurative operations of many ergodic works, which require non-trivial effort from the reader in order to traverse the text. Of course, there is no particular reason why cybertexts need be electronic—the I Ching is ",**I,'J%H% one of Aarseth’s prominent examples—nor that they be particularly literary. Many computers games that make no effort to offer either narrative or poetry easily could fit within Aarseth’s typology. When the first organizers of the ELO were debating the name of the new nonprofit organization back in 1999, they consciously chose to use this term rather than hypertext, digital poetry, interactive fiction, writing for programmable and networked media or any other more specific term precisely because of its generality, rather than its specificity. As previously noted, in 2004, the ELO agreed to define electronic literature as “works with important literary aspects that take advantage of the capabilities and contexts provided by the stand-alone or networked computer.” As a number of people have pointed out subsequently, the phrase “important literary aspects” is a bit slippery. In Electronic Literature: New Horizons for the Literary, Hayles excuses the tautology of this phrase, explaining that readers “come to digital work with expectations formed by print” and that “electronic literature must build on these expectations even as it modifies and transforms them.” Hayles further draws attention to the distinction between “literature” proper, which one might presume is limited to verbal art forms in which words are dominant, and “the literary” which Hayles proposes as “creative artworks that interrogate the histories, contexts, and productions of literature, including as well the verbal art of literature proper.” Hayles felt this distinction important largely because of the fact that when she, Nick Montfort, Scott Rettberg, and Stephanie Strickland and were editing the Electronic Literature Collection, Volume 1, in 2006, they encountered in the submissions, and indeed chose to include in the collections, a number of works in which the written word was not the primary focus if indeed it was present at all.